


Forward

by bitboozy



Series: Domesticated [41]
Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Gen, Romance, This is a love story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:48:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23859358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitboozy/pseuds/bitboozy
Summary: Just a little lovely plotless domesticity in a trash fire world.
Relationships: Alec Hardy & Ellie Miller, Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller
Series: Domesticated [41]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550554
Comments: 30
Kudos: 89





	Forward

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little Sunday fluff for us all. Figured we could use it.

In the nearly two years they’ve been together, Alec’s response to being dragged to parties has changed drastically. At first there was flat out refusal, then never-ending complaining before, during and after, then complaining only before and during, then only during and after, then only before and after. More recently, before only. Now they’ve reached the level of _grudging assent_ and _quiet consternation_. Ellie is pretty sure this is as good as it will ever get and she is fully content with it.

This time, it’s Maggie’s birthday do, which at least means that Jocelyn will be there and so too will very, very good scotch. It’s a Saturday night and Erin is left in charge of Fred and Aila while Tom and Daisy go to their own respective parties. (Tom is at first highly miffed that Erin will be minding his siblings instead of going out with _him_ , but Erin makes it clear that money takes priority, _obviously_ , and he should get over himself.)

Alec wears his usual “relaxed suit” despite Ellie’s suggestion of jeans and jumper. She wears a dark green wrap dress with a jean jacket and boots. There’s no real reason why going out as a married couple should feel any different to him than going out as an engaged couple, but it does. He feels he has slightly less to prove now. This has been just as gradual as his acceptance of parties, perhaps for a reason. Little by little, he’s had less and less to prove – first by dating Ellie, then by getting Ellie pregnant, then by being engaged to Ellie, having a baby with Ellie, and now finally being married to Ellie. He is an unequivocal fixture of the town, a stand up member of the Broadchurch community now, married to one of its favourite daughters. People don’t cringe and scatter when he approaches anymore. Ellie doesn’t worry about leaving him to fend for himself (not that she often let herself act on it). He has taken their scorned and betrayed Ellie Miller and made her a very happy Ellie Hardy and, apart from the expected general teasing, there’s nary a word to be said against him.

An hour or so into the casual event, Ellie is seated in Maggie and Jocelyn’s living room with Beth, Lucy, and Maggie. All have alcoholic beverages in hand, save for Ellie, who is sucking down a cranberry and soda, having decided earlier that she has no interest in pumping and dumping later on.

“We’re trying to get out more,” Ellie is saying in earnest. “We have a decent roster of childminders now, we’ve no reason not to. Aside from general exhaustion and inertia.”

“Alec strikes me as the type who is happiest at home,” Maggie says with a suspicious raised eyebrow.

“Oh, no question,” Ellie answers. “But he’s also damn well happiest when _I’m_ happy, so compromises must be made.”

Lucy takes a sip of her G&T, then says, “I seem to remember you and Joe doing all sorts of odd things in your spare time. Fishing, sometimes, wasn’t it?”

Ellie smiles and shakes her head. “We were surprisingly outdoorsy together. Even went camping with Tom a few times.”

“Can’t imagine Alec doing _that_ ,” Beth snorts.

“Part is me is always waiting for him to get tired of Broadchurch,” Ellie muses. “Of small town life. And small town crimes. But he insists that it suits him just fine.”

“Does it still suit _you_ just fine?” Maggie asks.

Ellie looks down into her glass. “Yeah, mostly. I did used to think about what I might do once Fred was out of the house. If I might look elsewhere.” She shrugs. “But now Aila’s set us back another five years so I reckon I’d be too old to, say, get hired as a Chief Super in London or something. Who on earth would have me at sixty-two?” Her eyes widen suddenly. “Good christ I’m going to be bloody _sixty-two_ when Aila’s eighteen, what have I done.”

“You might retire in the Highlands or something,” Beth suggests, with a little smirk.

Alec approaches with a fresh cranberry and soda in hand and wordlessly offers it to Ellie, taking her empty one. She looks up a him with a smile. “Thanks, babe.”

Lucy makes a face at Beth and mockingly mouthes _Thanks, babe_. Ellie throws a pillow at her.

Alec shoves his hand into his pockets. “…I’ll leave you lasses to it, then.” And backs away.

“So bloody _attentive_ ,” Beth remarks, once he’s out of earshort.

“He’s just bored,” Ellie insists. “And quietly filled with guilt that I can’t have a bloody glass of wine without wearing out my sodding nipples.”

“Oh, fun party talk.” Lucy rolls her eyes.

Beth snickers. “ _He’s_ the one wants to be wearin’ out your sodding nipples.”

Maggie nearly spits out her drink.

Ellie chuckles into hers. “You laugh but that’s exactly what he wants.” She keeps laughing, egging herself on. “He’s more attached to them than the baby is.”

They all burst into a fit of laughter. When Ellie glances over and catches Alec’s eye on the far side of the room, he’s frowning in their direction. It only makes her laugh harder.

An hour later, while Ellie is deep in conversation with Sam the Bartender, Beth drunkenly tiptoes up to her with an impish look on her face.

Ellie raises an eyebrow at her. “What’ve you done?”

Beth holds up two cigarettes. “Nicked ‘em from Nige. Come outside with me.”

Ellie looks back and forth between Beth and Sam, who laughingly takes a step back and shakes his head, determined to stay out of it.

“Fine.”

She holds her finger to her lips, signaling for Sam to keep his mouth shut, then follows a giddy Beth outside to the back garden.

“You must be _truly_ pissed,” Ellie remarks, taking one cigarette from her. “You only smoke when you’re three sheets to the wind.”

“Shh.” Beth tries to hold her cigarette between her lips and light Ellie’s at the same time.

They both take a drag and then exhale luxuriously, leaning back against the siding of the house.

“Alec is going to _murder me_ ,” Ellie says.

“I’ve got mints,” Beth says helpfully. “He’ll never know.”

“Detective,” she reminds her.

“…Right. Well.” Beth offers her a lopsided smile. “You didn’t drink!”

“He’s a reformed smoker, you know,” Ellie tells her. “He’s going to sniff me all over ‘til he gets it secondhand, just you wait.”

“Sexy!”

Ellie laughs. “Decidedly _not_ sexy.”

“God, it’s good though, innit?” Beth is grinning up at the stars for no particular reason.

“Fuckin’ _is_ ,” Ellie agrees, taking a drag.

There’s a long silence, both of them breathing in that sweet, sweet nicotine and staring out out in the night air.

Then, without looking over at her, Beth asks, “D’you ever wonder if you’ll get bored?”

Ellie blinks. “What?”

“Doin’ the same thing every day, you know? Same job, same people.”

“That’s just sort of…life, isn’t it?” Ellie replies.

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“I like my job,” Ellie says. “I like my people.”

Beth nods.

“Yeah.”

They both then hear the sound of the sliding door opening and with a single glance back, drop their cigarettes and grind them into the ground with their feet, waving their hands through the air to dissipate the smoke.

Alec clears his throat, his arms folded across his chest. “Well, well, well.”

Beth and Ellie both them to him innocently.

“What?” Ellie asks.

“ _What_ , she says,” Alec scoffs. “ _What_.”

“Just havin’ a chat,” Beth tells him.

“In a cloud of smoke.”

Alec moves his hands into his pockets, rocking just slightly back and forth on the balls of his feet as he stares at Ellie incredulously with a just barely perceptible smirk on his face.

“People are startin’ to make their excuses,” he tells her. “Thought I’d see if you were ready to – “

“Yes, sure, yes, if you’re ready, yes,” Ellie answers too quickly and high-pitched.

“You have absolutely no poker face, you know that?” Alec says with a chuckle, reaching for her arm.

“It was Beth’s fault!” She exclaims suddenly. “She made me do it!”

*

After making their exit, Alec and Ellie begin their longish walk home, arm in arm, in the dark.

“Not such a bad do, eh?” She asks.

“Not terrible.”

“Did you have fun with Jocelyn?” Ellie looks up at him with a knowing smile.

“We’re not bloody _twelve_.”

“…But did you?”

“Her acerbic wit is perfectly suited for people-watching,” Alec admits.

“So you spent the whole party mocking us all.”

“Yep.”

“Fair enough.” She lays her head on his arm as they walk. “You a bit tipsy from all that premium scotch?”

“Perhaps.”

“Look at me, the designated walker.”

Alec snorts. “You found a way to get your jollies elsewhere.”

“It was _one cigarette_. Half of one, really.”

“Mm.” He shakes his head. “Don’t even think of showerin’ tonight. That smell is going to lull me into a magnificent sleep when we get home.” He leans over, sticks his nose in her hair, and inhales. Then exhales happily. “Beautiful.”

*

At home, in their pyjamas, they lie on their sides in bed, just lazily capturing each other’s lips over and over. Ellie smiles into every kiss, always inclined to be less serious than he is, and strokes his bearded cheek.

“So this is a married Saturday night,” Ellie remarks between kisses.

“Mm-hmm.” He, in fact, very serious about kissing her. 

“In bed by 10:30.”

“Mm- _hmm_.” Alec is clearly thrilled by this triumph. He rubs her back as he kisses her, like he’s trying to lull her out of her restlessness. And succeeding. “No need to speak.”

Her smile turn into a grin and he kisses her again. “Oh, is that so.”

“Mm-hmm.”

She tangles their legs together, rubbing his feet with hers.

“Very happy,” he murmurs into her mouth.

She chuckles and he kisses that away. “Bloody knackered.”

“Me too.” He strokes her hair back continuously and doesn’t stop kissing her. “You just have the nicest lips in the world.”

“Aw.”

His kiss lingers, then his lips brush over the corner of her mouth, then her cheek. His index finger lightly traces the curve of her nose, then crosses to her cheekbone, thumb gently swiping beneath her eye. He kisses her forehead.

“Some nice scotch you had tonight, eh?” She smiles, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Don’t blame the scotch,” he grumbles. “Always tryin’ to ruin my fun.”

“Sorry,” she whispers.

She presses her lips to his, then guides him onto his back and tucks her head into the crook between his neck and shoulder. Her hand grazes over his pacemaker scar, feeling the bump of it through his thin t-shirt, and she hooks one leg to his.

“Lights out?” She asks.

He reaches his arm back to switch off his bedside lamp.

“Night, babe.”

“Mm. Night.” He breathes in deeply. “Ah, sweet nicotine.”

*

Much earlier in Alec and Ellie’s relationship, she and Daisy have developed a biweekly routine of going out for some kind of international cuisine while Alec and the boys ordered pizza. Though the regularity of this tradition has dwindled with time, they’ve decided to pick it up again as they prepare for Daisy to leave for uni. Only now, Aila joins them and it’s become a girls’ night.

Returning home from one such occasion, Ellie finds her boys on the couch together, two mostly empty pizza boxes on the coffee table. With Aila on her hip, she slips her shoes off and continues on to investigate the scene.

“My _boys_ ,” Ellie muses, observing them with pride.

Fred is laying with his head on Alec’s lap and Tom is on his other side. They are avidly watching the television screen.

“What are you watching?”

“ _Iron Man 2_!!!” Fred exclaims, without lifting his head or even glancing at her.

Alec looks at her helplessly and shrugs. “Where’s Daiz?”

“Dropped her off at the Latimers’ on my way,” she replies. “Evidently there is some sort of graduation fashion emergency with another of their mates.”

Ellie leans down and places Aila on the floor, knowing she’ll be stuck there stationary on the carpet. Aila frowns as Ellie walks over to the couch and sits down on the floor next to Alec’s legs. The baby rocks back and forth on her knees and forearms, whining.

Ellie looks at her dubiously. “Well, go on then,” she challenges her. “If you want to be with the rest of the family, you’ll have to put a bit of effort into it.”

Aila rocks a bit more fastidiously, grunting and frowning _very_ hard.

“Bit harsh.” Alec glances down at Ellie.

“She’s a Hardy, she triumphes in the face of adversity, you watch.”

Aila collapses face down on the carpet.

“Keep at it, bug!” Ellie encourages her.

“Mum, quiet,” Tom whispers harsly.

She whispers back, “ _Sorry_.” Then reaches over to the coffee table and grabs one of the last remaining slices of pizza.

Alec raises at eyebrow at her. “Didn’t you just eat?”

“Shut up,” Ellie replies, mouth full.

“Not nice to say shut up,” Fred murmurs automatically, still staring at the telly.

Aila is back up on her arms and knees now, rocking and whining.

“El, go get her,” Alec says.

Ellie shakes her head and rips off another bite of pizza with her teeth. “Not a chance.” Alec starts to get up himself and she pushes him back down. “We coddle her too much. Don’t want to stunt her growth.”

Aila rocks faster, with the grumpiest little pout on her face. Ellie snorts. “No, Daddy can’t save you now, you precious little thing.”

Aila moves from her arms to her hands.

“ _That’s_ it now.”

“ _Mum_ ,” Tom complains again.

“You’ve seen this ten times,” Ellie retorts, unperturbed.

Aila does something resembling a very bad push up.

“Come on, baby,” Ellie says, in a stage whisper, for Tom’s sake. “I know you want to come see Daddy. Come on.”

Alec glances from the screen down to Aila again. “ _Ellie_.”

“Shhh.” She waves him off. “Just wait.”

Aila slaps one hand down, then another in front of it. She pauses, then moves one leg forward. Then the other leg.

“Look, look, look,” Ellie exclaims, moving onto her knees.

Aila looks up briefly and glares at her mother.

“Oh, stop.”

One hand forward. One leg forward. One hand forward. One leg forward.

“Alec, look!”

Alec sits up straight, causing Fred to lift his head off his lap. “There you are, darlin’, keep goin’.”

“She’s doing it!”

One hand forward. One leg forward. One hand forward. One leg forward.

“Go, Ailie, go!” Fred shouts, caught up in the excitement.

Aila’s pout turns into a smile when she realizes she is the center of attention.

“Come on, bug, come on!”

One hand forward. One leg forward. One hand forward. One leg forward.

One hand forward. One leg forward. One hand forward. One leg forward.

Alec moves down onto the floor next to Ellie, on his knees. Fred is at his back, jumping on the couch and using Alec’s shoulders to steady him.

Aila triumphantly reaches Alec’s knees and he immediately lifts her into his arms, tossing her up once. She giggles, cheeks pink with pride and also exhaustion.

“There’s my brilliant wee lass,” Alec praises her, smooching her cheek.

“Oh, good girl, Aila, well done.” Ellie kisses her other cheek. “You see?” She lightly whacks Alec’s shoulder. “Tough love, that’s how it’s done.”

Aila grips tightly to Alec’s shirt, letting him know that under no circumstances will she tolerate being put down again, and throws a quick frown at Ellie before burying her face in Alec’s neck.

“She’s gonna be good and cross with you for a while,” Alec notes with a laugh.

Ellie sighs and shakes her head. “When did _I_ become the bad cop between us?!”

*

Alec stands on sidelines of the football field early one Saturday morning, in his jeans and a Chambray shirt, cheering on Fred. Surrounding him are several women – football mums – all stealing glances at him while they try and fail at paying attention to their own sons running past.

“Good of you to bring the snacks,” one of them says to him, with a surreptitious smile.

Alec keeps his eyes on Fred. “Was our day.” He simply shrugs.

Another eyes him. “Still, the juices were extra.”

“No bother.” He claps his hands, applauding the team. “WELL DONE, LADS!”

One of the moms bites her lips, leaning back to get a look at his arse. Another asks, “Where’s Ellie today then?”

“With the baby,” he replies. “She’s teethin’ somethin’ miserable at the moment.”

“Ellie or the baby?”

The women laugh silently between them. Alec merely offers them a slight quirk of the corner of his mouth, out of pity.

One of them stealthily steps in closer to him. “Was thinking Fred could come by and play with Billy after the game,” she says. “Pizza for them, a few cocktails for _us_ …”

“Thanks, but I’d better get back and give Ellie a break,” he replies without looking at her. “Fred would love to come over though, would be great if you could take him.”

The mom frowns. “…’Course. Be glad to.”

Later, with Aila finally asleep and the other kids out of the house, Alec has Ellie up against the wall in their bedroom, shagging her frenziedly.

“Oh god,” Ellie gasps, gripping his shoulders tightly as he thrusts into her. “If only those poor desperate mums knew how good they are for our sex life.”

Alec pants into her neck and readjusts his hands on her increasingly slippery thighs. “The more desperate they get, the more _vividly_ I think about comin’ home and shaggin’ _you_.”

She lets out something between a gasp and a laugh. “Stupid slags.”

He bites into her shoulder.

" _Christ._ "

*

“Don’t like Daniel Craig’s accent.”

Alec is grimacing at the telly from his place on the couch. Ellie sits on the floor between his knees, audibly enjoying the massage he’s giving her neck and shoulders.

“His appeal’s not in his ruddy _accent_ ,” she argues, head down, eyes closed. “ _Fuuuuuck_.”

“That the spot?”

“That’s the spot.”

He applies more pressure to her neck.

“I mean, is it a _good_ accent? S’pose I’m no bloody expert,” he says, squinting, as if it will make him hear better. “Hard to take a detective seriously soundin’ like that.”

“Bet people say that about _you_.”

He ignores her. “And I don’t understand what’s so thrilling about this film when they’ve already told us how the murder happened.”

“But perhaps they _haven’t_ ,” Ellie points out. “Perhaps there’s more to the story.”

Alec is quiet for a while, then Ellie lets out a low groan of approval, smiling dizzily at the work of his hands.

“All these people are idiots,” he observes. And then: “What d’you think of this Chris Pine fellow?”

“The character?”

“His _face_.”

Ellie opens her eyes and watches. “He’s got a very nice face, I think.”

Alec grumbles something unintelligible. She finds herself gazing longingly at the screen.

“A _very_ nice face.”

Alec pushes his thumb painfully hard into her shoulder.

“Oi!”

*

Aila slaps her hands on the tray on her high chair, demanding to be fed.

Alec brings the tiny plastic spoon to her mouth and she purses her lips, staring at him incredulously with her big brown eyes.

“Oh, what? What’s the problem?”

He nudges the spoon against her lips. She leans back, away from it. With a heavy sigh, he takes the small plastic bowl and brings it to the sink, rinsing it out. Then he returns with another type of baby food to try again.

“Bopbopbopbopbop,” Aila recites to herself obliviously, slapping her hands on the tray again.

“All right, here we are, ye of refined taste.”

He holds the spoon out. She opens her mouth. She swallows half of it, the other half dribbling down her chin. Alec scoops it up with the spoon before it even reaches her bib, then holds it up to her again.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmm.”

“You like that?”

She eats it, bouncing contentedly. Then she opens her mouth and it all comes pouring out again.

“Bollocks.”

Aila laughs.

*

The music score emanating from the telly speakers is suddenly louder than the thunderstorm raging outside. Alec quickly reaches for the remote and turns down the volume. Then he tosses it down and goes back to absently stroking the shapely legs in his lap.

“Don’t understand what the point is,” he remarks with mild agitation. “If the whole premise of the series is that they’re stuck on a bloody island, then obviously the series is goin’ to end with them gettin’ _off_ the island. So what am I watchin’ for?”

Ellie groans. They have had some variation of this argument for nearly every series they’ve watched, or attempted to watch, together.

“It’s about _how_ they get off the island. What _is_ the island, what happened, how did they get here – “

“The plane crashed.”

“No but _why_ did the plane crash, it’s clearly suspicious.”

“All plane crashes are suspicious.”

She nudges his thigh with her heel. “Stop it. Some things are about the _journey_ , not the destination.”

“Ach.”

“And we’re already fifteen years behind the rest of the world on this bloody series so can we please just get on with it?”

Alec grumbles, pressing his fingers into the arch of her foot. “Dunno why _you_ always get to choose what we watch.”

“Because you have no idea what anything is! You’ve no idea what’s out there _to_ watch,” Ellie retorts. Then she repositions her foot and nudges his stomach with her toes. “If you shut up and let us get through two more episodes I’ll give you a blow job before bed.”

Tom, having just arrived in the doorway with a bag of crisps, freezes, eyes widen, lip curling in disgust. He immediately backs up and returns to the hall without a word.

She tries to kick him at the exact time he tries to whack her.

“Ow!” They both exclaim.

*

By the wee hours of the morning, with the thunderstorm raging on around them, both Fred and Aila have weaseled their way into bed with their parents.

*

“Dunno how Aila can sleep in this heat but I thank christ for it.” Ellie wipes the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand and tries to air out her tank top.

She’s standing by the bannister, her hair in a ponytail, jean shorts sticking to her. Alec, grudgingly in shorts and a t-shirt, is sitting next to the bottom step trying to install a baby gate.

It’s an uncharacteristically hot April afternoon and their central cooling system had clearly not been prepared for it.

“They’ll be here to sort it in an hour,” Alec reminds her, picking a screwdriver out of the toolbox.

“You know, we ought to lower her crib mattress too,” Ellie says. “Soon enough she’ll be able to pull herself up to standing with the bars.”

Alec groans. “Those bars are meant to imprison her not empower her.”

“Can’t keep an independent woman down.”

She takes a swig from her water bottle then offers it to him. He takes a sip as well, then hands it back.

“Don’t like her growin’ so fast,” Alec complains quietly.

“I know, love.” She ruffles his sweaty hair. “You need a haircut by the way.”

“Why do I never get to say things like that to _you_?”

Ellie looks down at him incredulously. “Can women not have _one thing_ over men without you complaining about it?!” She rolls her eyes. “Besides you _like_ my hair longer.”

He mumbles something Scottish and incomphrensible, but it resembles a grudging assent. Then he stands.

“All right. Test it.”

Ellie swings the gate back and forth, then latches it closed and rattles it. “Seems solid.”

He drops the screwdriver back into the toolbox, pleased with himself.

“Now do the one for the upstairs.”

*

Late at night, Alec exhaustedly trudges home from work and finds her in the kitchen, in her dressing gown, making a cup of tea.

“Finally.” She’s pouring hot water into her mug and doesn’t turn to look at him. “Don Juan back from the war.”

He sidles up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist and squeezing her tight, hiding his face between her neck and shoulder. He lets out a sigh. “I love you.”

She smiles, and he can almost feel her skin tingle at the words. “Why?”

He snorts.

“I mean – much as I adore _I love you_ as a greeting…”

“I just love you,” he murmurs into her neck, then kisses it. “You’re by far the best thing I could possibly hope to find when walkin’ into a room.”

She rubs his arms, circled around her waist. “Kids are a close second I hope.”

He grunts. “Distant second.”

She chuckles. He starts to sway her, planting kisses all over her neck and shoulder. In her ear, he whispers _I love you_ again, then kisses it. One hand slips into her dressing gown and finds nothing underneath. His roaming hand pauses.

“Just got out of the bath,” she explains.

“So that’s why you smell like lavender and rose water.”

“Very good.”

His hand begins to roam again beneath her dressing gown. “Can I take you back upstairs.”

She leans back into him with a wistful sigh. “I wish you would.”

He turns her around in his arms then leans down to press his lips into her collarbone. “Feel like silk,” he murmurs.

“That’s just your sleepy desperation arousal talking,” she replies.

He lifts his head and looks at her quizzically. “My what?”

She smiles knowingly. “You get like this, you know you do. When you’re knackered and you’ve not seen me in hours. You get soft and desperately affectionate – you _should_ go straight to sleep but you won’t rest until you’ve had your way with me.”

He blinks at her. “I get like this?”

“Yes, you do. It’s rather endearing as a matter of fact.” She takes his face in her hands, lightly stroking his beard. “You’re very cute sometimes, Alec Hardy.”

His eyes widen.

“Don’t argue,” she says before he can protest.

Instead he buries his face in her neck again, squeezing her until her spine cracks a bit. “Love you so much,” he murmurs.

She grins. “See?”

He pulls back and shakes his head at her, reaching for her hand. “To bed with you, Mrs. Hardy.”

“Mm.” She nods drowsily. “To bed.”

***


End file.
